It was as though she were within a nightmare.
She could no longer move. The floor held her where she was as though it were smeared with glue, and whilst she had been standing there, staring at this man who climbed in through the open window with the ease of a cat, it had hardened at her feet.
She couldn't shout out, or speak, everything slipped into slow motion, she could feel the scream within her throat, she could even hear how it would sound if she could only force it from her chest, but when she parted her lips there was only the whisper of a breath.
"Hello Connie."
His hands hung by his sides, his fingers flexed, but it was his voice, the American twang that was the most out of place in this room that seemed to be getting smaller by the second.
She opened her mouth to speak but there was nothing, nothing but the beat of her own heart inside her head.
He neared her, his shoes oddly silent on the floor, he stopped, a foot from her, and as she inhaled she smelled him, and every single little piece of that day in her office came back to her, every little thing that she hadn't even realised she had forgotten, the way he'd stroked her hair and told her he loved her, the way he'd teased her before pushing her against the desk.
She swallowed, though her mouth was dry.
"Who's the man?"
He asked, and for the first time she looked at his face. He was so close to her that she could see the glint of his straight white teeth, the bloodshot eyes and the slicked back hair. He looked no different from how he had done all those years ago when she'd left him in the ER in America, the blood of his wife on his hands.
"Hmm?"
He took a half step closer so that his breath was on her face, and she flinched, her body cold.
"Max."
She whispered, and as she spoke he raised his hand and slapped her so sharply across her mouth that all she registered was pain and the taste of blood, she hadn't even noticed him move.
"Who is Max?"
He asked, and his hands took hold of her wrists, her bones twisting against one another, and she closed her eyes, unable to look at him any longer.
"I..."
She cleared her throat, it hurt so much to speak, but when he shook her she realised she had no choice but to continue.
"I love him."
She whispered, her voice catching.
He laughed, slowly and quickly, a dull, bored sounding chuckle before he sighed and jerked her closer so that she opened her eyes.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
He smiled, his lip curled, his face inches from her own. She could see the pores of his skin, and the flicker at the corner of his eye.
"It will make this a great deal more difficult for you."
He added, tilting his head to one side.
"What do you mean?"
She asked, clearing her throat, her eyes searching for somewhere to look, anywhere but at him.
He let go of her left wrist, the flesh where he had held throbbed and the colour flooded back beneath her skin.
He reached down to the hem of her skirt, to where Max's fingers had been only moments before, and she closed her eyes again, struggling against a breath as she stood, so full of fear that she was powerless to do anything but feel as he pushed up the fabric and traced the scar that he had left on her inner thigh, brushing her underwear with his knuckles.
"I thought this would be enough."
He murmured, pushing himself against her, his cheek against hers, his mouth against her ear.
"I thought you wouldn't be able to forget me."
She shook her head, her lips trembled and she could feel her knee caps shaking as her legs threatened to give way.
"But now I see this little game isn't over yet."
He whispered, pushing his knuckles harder against her so that she shuddered and a thick wave of nausea caused her throat to contract.
"Game?"
She gasped as he reached up higher, to where her underwear curved about her hip, running the tip of a finger just below the lace against her bare skin.
"Come on Connie...we've been playing at this for years. You're a cock tease. You've been leading me on for all these years, playing me...now it's my turn to play a little game with you."
He bit his lip, pleased with himself, his blue eyes so full of laughter as he felt her try to hold her legs together.
"This game...when does it end?"
She murmured, struggling to draw a breath, her eyes showing sparkling white spots just in her peripheral vision, but still she saw him smile, a smile surrounded by glitter.
"It ends when there's a victor."
He laughed, and with a violent twist of her wrists he turned her against him so that she faced the stall of the toilet opposite, his arms about her, holding her still.
"In."
He said.
-1-
Apologies ! I have neglected this! I'm struggling to find time to write during the summer holidays (not long left though until my daughter goes to school and I will have more time!)
I do apologise though, again...and I promise to do better!
I won't leave you in suspense...
Any guesses/wishes as to whats going to happen next?! :) xxx
